To most people in the non-education, non-library world would greet this statement with a shrug of the shoulders and perhaps a scratching of the head. The word ‘duh’ might be heard. But I can hear the clacking of tongues among my educator and librarian colleagues. And yes, I felt the shudder too.
In the milieu of student research, there are few boogeymen quite as universal as Wikipedia. It has as much popularity among educators as Bernie Madoff had among investors (after they discovered his Ponzi Scheme.) Like absinthe and processed meat at the U.S. Border, Wikipedia dared not show its suspect face on a works cited page.
For years, I shared my peer group’s pack mentality as we summarily judged the heretic and then set to fire to the craven interloper, fueled by dusty books and out-of-date reference materials. I even coined my own phrase—wikistupidity, defined as “the dullness of thought brought on by usage of Wikipedia or other similar dubious Internet websites.” Even among my Wikipedia-loving students, this got a few chuckles.
But I have changed my mind. The revelation came during a recent educational technology conference. And it was revolutionary indeed. The problem is not Wikipedia. The problem is dullness of thought. And dullness of teaching. And lest you think I’m going to hedge my argument and somehow still find a way to dismiss or diminish Wikipedia, you’re wrong. This is how I learned to stop worrying and love the Wikipedia.
Like weeds, Wikipedia thrives in a poor research ecosystem. As I continue to throw metaphors against analogies, if we only ask kids to swallow up facts and expectorate them onto a report or Powerpoint, then Wikipedia is the best, most logical, most up-to-date, readily accessible and familiar tool to use. We should laud kids for the efficiency and resourcefulness of their research. They have chosen the best blunt object to do the dull job they’ve been asked to do.
Coyotes and ragweed adapt and thrive in resource-poor environments, often created by poor planning, environmental stewardship and/or ham-fisted human intervention. We categorize these highly successful animals and plants as pests because they are a) not what we want to see in our backyards and b) more successful than other species we deem to be desirable. Wikipedia has become a weed in our rarefied world of books, information databases and ‘quality websites.’ But like coyotes and ragweed, Wikipedia will continue to grow, adapt, improve and become more pervasive.
Wikipedia is already crowding out what some would consider a more desirable species—the encyclopedia. Ironically, this reference tool also began as a sort of weed and in pre-Internet days was the bane of a well-tended bibliography. Well into this century, I had teachers and assignment sheets categorically ban general encyclopedias. What they didn’t realize is that most students had stopped using encyclopedias long ago. And they missed the point that in contrast to the world wild web, the encyclopedia is a pretty thorough and trusted source of information, particularly for most routine research projects. But survival of the fittest means culling the weak. And with diminishing resources, I can’t afford to be generous. At my high school, my print encyclopedias have gone away. The reasons are simple. First, they don’t get used. Second, third, fourth and fifth, Wikipedia is more current, comprehensive, thorough, and dynamic. Even if I put on rose-colored reading glasses, I can’t honestly recommend an expensive encyclopedia in favor of its free doppelganger.
What I realized last month is that my garden of non-fiction needs to be replanted. Akin to the removal of lawns in favor of vegetable gardens and native species suited to our climate, I need to radically rethink what I offer my students and teachers. Non-fiction books and reference in high schools would not be used for research were it not for the aforementioned requirements imposed by teachers. Students no longer natively reach for books for information. They haven’t for years. They reach for their laptop or even their cell- or smartphone. Conceptually, millennial students see information not bound in print but in the ether that magically exists beyond a screen. And this is a fundamental difference between us and the natively digital children we teach. And in order to serve their research and information needs, we need to change our teaching, our libraries and our expectations.
Much has been written and thought about the necessary changes to teaching in the 21st Century. Most of it focuses on the fundamental change in the way millennial students interact with information. Traditional research is about a question asked that is answered by locating, identifying, evaluating and reprocessing information. Who was General_? How many people died in the Battle of _? When was the _? When encyclopedias roamed the earth, these answers were arrived at by visiting the library because there was no other way to get the information. Contrary to the wishes of many educators and librarians, this is no longer the case. And it reveals an existential crisis for libraries. If librarians and libraries do not radically change, our patrons will simply stop coming through our doors. And we will go the way of the encyclopedia and travel agents.
Let’s step back, let our book-loving hackles relax and objectively look at books as non-fiction. By the way, I’m still totally sold on print-as-fiction. No argument there.
On the good side, few would argue that most non-fiction books are well-researched and well-, if drily-written. They have ponderous quantities of text, often offset with nothing more than a page number. And they work when the power goes out. But they are unavailable for access when the library doors are locked. Books are also way too old-fashioned. Compared to nanosecond full-text searching, using tables of contents and indexes is like manually setting f-stops and shutter speeds on cameras. The efficiency and efficacy of digital searching leaves analog searching in the dust. More than once, I wish I could look for something in a print index by typing two or three words, Google-style. Print index skills? Do we really need them anymore? Talk amongst yourselves.
Books are further bound by their non-digitality. Notwithstanding the primitive searching functions, there is no way to effectively sort, extract or transmute information from the printed page to modern workplaces. My colleagues will suggest analog note-taking, an atavistic exercise that is as natural to millennial students as winding clocks. That’s not to say that organization of information is not an essential 21st century skill, but we need to find ways to use modern tools to teach these skills. Note cards, like card catalog cards, are poor ways to organize ideas. They are quaint—in the pejorative sense.
I have made a significant investment in eBooks. Despite their sometimes breathtaking cost, eBook references are frequently best of breed. And in eBook format, they are, for the first time ever, cost-effective. Because when I purchase an $800 Encyclopedia of ___, every kid at my school with a computer can access an outstanding reference work 24/7. And I buy them once, not every year. And unlike books, they will get used by millennial researchers—because they look like a website. I have all the advantages of print with all the functionality of digital sources. It’s the best of both worlds.
Of course, online databases have long had value in the modern library collection. Recently, I have expanded beyond the more general periodical and reference sources toward subject-specific databases to respond to targeted classroom needs. They serve as a nice complement to social studies classes and textbook adoptions. Current event databases have value in a variety of classes from health to contemporary world problems. An indicator of this success can be seen in the fact that almost every database vendor has one or more current event resource for sale.
Beyond my direct control lies a far greater challenge. Most research projects that wash onto my shores are perfectly suited to the flotsam and jetsam that Wikipedia and The Google can generate. When not much is asked of students, not much is needed to get a passing grade. Recently, the State of Washington developed more rigorous Classroom-Based Assessments (CBAs) for several subject areas including social studies. Unlike factoid-friendly research activities, these projects are designed around essential questions and problems that require something more than a quick copy and paste from Wikipedia.
I think of this as messy research because it requires students to get their hands dirty and read, engage with and process information to make their own judgments, evaluations and conclusions. This is nothing new. Jamie McKenzie’s been preaching this for years. It’s further integral to the conventional wisdom of Big Six and other research constructs. But it is new to most content teachers unfamiliar with information problem-solving. For teacher-librarians, this is a perfect teachable moment for both students and teachers.
My pitch to students is simple. “Look at this nasty project your teacher has given you….The bad news is that you won’t be able to copy and paste your way out of it. The good news is that I can help you.” I invite them to take a look at the analysis offered by magazines like The Economist or Christian Science Monitor, consider the objective coverage of current events like CQ Researcher or Issues and Controversies, peek into the exhaustive reference tools or primary sources offered by Gale eBooks. I treat my high school students like the savvy consumers they are. I appeal to their desire for efficiency. If I’ve done my job, my online collection development will fill the gaps that The Google and the Interweb cannot fill. And when these tools automatically create MLA citations, I’ve got a sale.
My pitch to teachers is more complex—most are loathe to retool or re-imagine something other than a rote research paper on this war or that. But several levers are available to lift the level of research in most classes. In Washington State, the CBAs are required in social studies classes. As mentioned previously, these are wonderful opportunities to engage in deeper research. Secondly, ISTE NETS and Washington State Educational Technology EALRs call for information problem-solving and higher tier thinking and integration of technology. In the chaotic post-NCLB world, 21st century learning skills will eventually fall in the laps of teachers. Finally and perhaps most importantly, I remind them that research based on essential questions makes plagiarism far more difficult. A good messy research challenge makes a ban on Wikipedia a moot point.
Messy research littered with essential questions requires the triangulation of concepts, facts and opinion and allows Wikipedia, blogs, and other fuzzily-truthful sources to play a legitimate role—as one of many information inputs that are arrayed against others to arrive at truth, accuracy and a thorough answer to a thorough essential question. Why not use a wingnut’s blog post as part of an argumentative essay regarding a current event topic? Set against other more credible sources, we can have real information literacy learning in which the student realizes that many bloggers are, in fact, crazy.
Facts have become fungible in the 21st Century, even in mainstream media and journalism. Stephen Colbert’s truthiness has become a reality when publishing is as easy as sending a text message. Research driven by essential questions can make Wikipedia and plagiarism go away without the need to badmouth the former or wag the finger at the latter.
Wikipedia is not evil. There. I said it.
To most people in the non-education, non-library world would greet this statement with a shrug of the shoulders and perhaps a scratching of the head. The word ‘duh’ might be heard. But I can hear the clacking of tongues among my educator and librarian colleagues. And yes, I felt the shudder too.
In the milieu of student research, there are few boogeymen quite as universal as Wikipedia. It has as much popularity among educators as Bernie Madoff had among investors (after they discovered his Ponzi Scheme.) Like absinthe and processed meat at the U.S. Border, Wikipedia dared not show its suspect face on a works cited page.
For years, I shared my peer group’s pack mentality as we summarily judged the heretic and then set to fire to the craven interloper, fueled by dusty books and out-of-date reference materials. I even coined my own phrase—wikistupidity, defined as “the dullness of thought brought on by usage of Wikipedia or other similar dubious Internet websites.” Even among my Wikipedia-loving students, this got a few chuckles.
But I have changed my mind. The revelation came during a recent educational technology conference. And it was revolutionary indeed. The problem is not Wikipedia. The problem is dullness of thought. And dullness of teaching. And lest you think I’m going to hedge my argument and somehow still find a way to dismiss or diminish Wikipedia, you’re wrong. This is how I learned to stop worrying and love the Wikipedia.
Like weeds, Wikipedia thrives in a poor research ecosystem. As I continue to throw metaphors against analogies, if we only ask kids to swallow up facts and expectorate them onto a report or Powerpoint, then Wikipedia is the best, most logical, most up-to-date, readily accessible and familiar tool to use. We should laud kids for the efficiency and resourcefulness of their research. They have chosen the best blunt object to do the dull job they’ve been asked to do.
Coyotes and ragweed adapt and thrive in resource-poor environments, often created by poor planning, environmental stewardship and/or ham-fisted human intervention. We categorize these highly successful animals and plants as pests because they are a) not what we want to see in our backyards and b) more successful than other species we deem to be desirable. Wikipedia has become a weed in our rarefied world of books, information databases and ‘quality websites.’ But like coyotes and ragweed, Wikipedia will continue to grow, adapt, improve and become more pervasive.
Wikipedia is already crowding out what some would consider a more desirable species—the encyclopedia. Ironically, this reference tool also began as a sort of weed and in pre-Internet days was the bane of a well-tended bibliography. Well into this century, I had teachers and assignment sheets categorically ban general encyclopedias. What they didn’t realize is that most students had stopped using encyclopedias long ago. And they missed the point that in contrast to the world wild web, the encyclopedia is a pretty thorough and trusted source of information, particularly for most routine research projects. But survival of the fittest means culling the weak. And with diminishing resources, I can’t afford to be generous. At my high school, my print encyclopedias have gone away. The reasons are simple. First, they don’t get used. Second, third, fourth and fifth, Wikipedia is more current, comprehensive, thorough, and dynamic. Even if I put on rose-colored reading glasses, I can’t honestly recommend an expensive encyclopedia in favor of its free doppelganger.
What I realized last month is that my garden of non-fiction needs to be replanted. Akin to the removal of lawns in favor of vegetable gardens and native species suited to our climate, I need to radically rethink what I offer my students and teachers. Non-fiction books and reference in high schools would not be used for research were it not for the aforementioned requirements imposed by teachers. Students no longer natively reach for books for information. They haven’t for years. They reach for their laptop or even their cell- or smartphone. Conceptually, millennial students see information not bound in print but in the ether that magically exists beyond a screen. And this is a fundamental difference between us and the natively digital children we teach. And in order to serve their research and information needs, we need to change our teaching, our libraries and our expectations.
Much has been written and thought about the necessary changes to teaching in the 21st Century. Most of it focuses on the fundamental change in the way millennial students interact with information. Traditional research is about a question asked that is answered by locating, identifying, evaluating and reprocessing information. Who was General_? How many people died in the Battle of _? When was the _? When encyclopedias roamed the earth, these answers were arrived at by visiting the library because there was no other way to get the information. Contrary to the wishes of many educators and librarians, this is no longer the case. And it reveals an existential crisis for libraries. If librarians and libraries do not radically change, our patrons will simply stop coming through our doors. And we will go the way of the encyclopedia and travel agents.
Let’s step back, let our book-loving hackles relax and objectively look at books as non-fiction. By the way, I’m still totally sold on print-as-fiction. No argument there.
On the good side, few would argue that most non-fiction books are well-researched and well-, if drily-written. They have ponderous quantities of text, often offset with nothing more than a page number. And they work when the power goes out. But they are unavailable for access when the library doors are locked. Books are also way too old-fashioned. Compared to nanosecond full-text searching, using tables of contents and indexes is like manually setting f-stops and shutter speeds on cameras. The efficiency and efficacy of digital searching leaves analog searching in the dust. More than once, I wish I could look for something in a print index by typing two or three words, Google-style. Print index skills? Do we really need them anymore? Talk amongst yourselves.
Books are further bound by their non-digitality. Notwithstanding the primitive searching functions, there is no way to effectively sort, extract or transmute information from the printed page to modern workplaces. My colleagues will suggest analog note-taking, an atavistic exercise that is as natural to millennial students as winding clocks. That’s not to say that organization of information is not an essential 21st century skill, but we need to find ways to use modern tools to teach these skills. Note cards, like card catalog cards, are poor ways to organize ideas. They are quaint—in the pejorative sense.
I have made a significant investment in eBooks. Despite their sometimes breathtaking cost, eBook references are frequently best of breed. And in eBook format, they are, for the first time ever, cost-effective. Because when I purchase an $800 Encyclopedia of ___, every kid at my school with a computer can access an outstanding reference work 24/7. And I buy them once, not every year. And unlike books, they will get used by millennial researchers—because they look like a website. I have all the advantages of print with all the functionality of digital sources. It’s the best of both worlds.
Of course, online databases have long had value in the modern library collection. Recently, I have expanded beyond the more general periodical and reference sources toward subject-specific databases to respond to targeted classroom needs. They serve as a nice complement to social studies classes and textbook adoptions. Current event databases have value in a variety of classes from health to contemporary world problems. An indicator of this success can be seen in the fact that almost every database vendor has one or more current event resource for sale.
Beyond my direct control lies a far greater challenge. Most research projects that wash onto my shores are perfectly suited to the flotsam and jetsam that Wikipedia and The Google can generate. When not much is asked of students, not much is needed to get a passing grade. Recently, the State of Washington developed more rigorous Classroom-Based Assessments (CBAs) for several subject areas including social studies. Unlike factoid-friendly research activities, these projects are designed around essential questions and problems that require something more than a quick copy and paste from Wikipedia.
I think of this as messy research because it requires students to get their hands dirty and read, engage with and process information to make their own judgments, evaluations and conclusions. This is nothing new. Jamie McKenzie’s been preaching this for years. It’s further integral to the conventional wisdom of Big Six and other research constructs. But it is new to most content teachers unfamiliar with information problem-solving. For teacher-librarians, this is a perfect teachable moment for both students and teachers.
My pitch to students is simple. “Look at this nasty project your teacher has given you….The bad news is that you won’t be able to copy and paste your way out of it. The good news is that I can help you.” I invite them to take a look at the analysis offered by magazines like The Economist or Christian Science Monitor, consider the objective coverage of current events like CQ Researcher or Issues and Controversies, peek into the exhaustive reference tools or primary sources offered by Gale eBooks. I treat my high school students like the savvy consumers they are. I appeal to their desire for efficiency. If I’ve done my job, my online collection development will fill the gaps that The Google and the Interweb cannot fill. And when these tools automatically create MLA citations, I’ve got a sale.
My pitch to teachers is more complex—most are loathe to retool or re-imagine something other than a rote research paper on this war or that. But several levers are available to lift the level of research in most classes. In Washington State, the CBAs are required in social studies classes. As mentioned previously, these are wonderful opportunities to engage in deeper research. Secondly, ISTE NETS and Washington State Educational Technology EALRs call for information problem-solving and higher tier thinking and integration of technology. In the chaotic post-NCLB world, 21st century learning skills will eventually fall in the laps of teachers. Finally and perhaps most importantly, I remind them that research based on essential questions makes plagiarism far more difficult. A good messy research challenge makes a ban on Wikipedia a moot point.
Messy research littered with essential questions requires the triangulation of concepts, facts and opinion and allows Wikipedia, blogs, and other fuzzily-truthful sources to play a legitimate role—as one of many information inputs that are arrayed against others to arrive at truth, accuracy and a thorough answer to a thorough essential question. Why not use a wingnut’s blog post as part of an argumentative essay regarding a current event topic? Set against other more credible sources, we can have real information literacy learning in which the student realizes that many bloggers are, in fact, crazy.
Facts have become fungible in the 21st Century, even in mainstream media and journalism. Stephen Colbert’s truthiness has become a reality when publishing is as easy as sending a text message. Research driven by essential questions can make Wikipedia and plagiarism go away without the need to badmouth the former or wag the finger at the latter.